


Beautiful You

by VOlympianlove



Series: Monstrous Me [3]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Brain Damage, Kim Jongdae | Chen-centric, M/M, Past Byun Baekhyun/Kim Jongdae | Chen, Past Character Death, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-12
Updated: 2019-08-12
Packaged: 2020-08-23 20:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20218927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VOlympianlove/pseuds/VOlympianlove
Summary: In the aftermath of Baekhyun's death, Jongdae finds a second chance with the help of a mysterious benefactor.





	Beautiful You

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the long-awaited sequel to Monstrous Me. There isn't really a pairing in this just because I wanted to focus more on Jongdae's recovery. There's Fanxing in it and the tiniest bit of SuDo if you squint.
> 
> Disclaimer: I am in no way a doctor, psychiatrist or psychologist and I know mental illness cannot truly be cured. This story has no intention of romanticizing mental illness.

"Mr Kim. You are free to go.” The sentence caused a ripple of murmurs to begin.

No one left the Hexagon. _No one._

The Hexagon housed all of the most dangerous criminals, from rogue superheroes to the most sadistic serial killers in the city.

And once you got in, there was no walking out.

The Hexagon was built like its name, with the administrative building on the top floor along with various holding cells. But the true horrors were the permanent prison cells.

They curved down in a spiral, with your crime determining the level of cell you resided in.

And the bottom prisoners never came back up.

Not until Jongdae.

Said man was sitting against the black wall of his prison, staring blindly at a photograph he held in his hand.

The clinking of the metal door startled him, and he lifted his head to look at the man who had moved to the side of his cot, a white envelope in his hand.

White.

Jongdae almost laughed. Down here in the Hexagon, there was no white anywhere. The lower bowels of the prison were so dark that without the lamps you could not see two feet in front of you.

And nothing white could remain so with the prisoners sitting on cold stone all day.

He took the envelope slowly, the bones in his fingers cracking from the movement.

The villain had barely moved from the day they brought him back in, his body seemingly paralyzed with shock.

“Who did it?” He spoke, voice hoarse from silence.

The psychiatrist shook his head and gestured for him to rise.

“Delivered to the office with bail money. It wasn’t signed.”

His eyes narrowed and Jongdae jumped when his shoulder was gripped by a strong hand.

“Whoever it is. Don’t make them regret bailing you out, you hear me? I don’t want to see you back in here again, Kim Jongdae.”

Jongdae bowed his head, slipping the photograph into his pocket to study the envelope. The letters were printed in neat black handwriting.

_Your benefactor_

* * *

His mind felt clearer than it had in days as they led him out, dressed in civilian clothes.

The sunlight was so bright it burned his eyes when the officers opened the doors and left him, standing on the side of the street with nothing but a white envelope in his hands.

Jongdae wandered along the street, inhaling the fresh air. He turned the envelope in his hands as he walked, studying the sticker that it had been sealed with.

A tiny purple bunny sticker.

The villain poked at the edges of the bunny, almost nervous to open it.

He could not think of a single person who would want him out of the Hexagon.

Not after he killed Baekhyun.

Baekhyun.

Jongdae took a shuddering breath, his thumb brushing over the bunny tenderly.

_Could it be?_

No. He was dead. He saw the body, touched it with his bare hands.

_Killed him with your bare hands._

The voice in the back of his head whispered, giggling maniacally as the scene replayed in his head once more, bright light flashing before his eyes, Baekhyun’s lips parted in a silent cry as his body fell, half of his face charred to oblivion.

Those empty eyes still haunted him. Night and day.

The villain shuddered again, squeezing his eyes shut to force the images away. Coming up to a bench, he sat himself down, absentmindedly touching the purple bunny again.

The little rabbit was having trouble keeping the flap shut as the envelope was so thick, and stuffed full.

Biting his lip, Jongdae pulled up the bunny with excruciating cautiousness not to rip it.

His jaw dropped when he saw the stacks of green inside, tied up neatly with red rubber bands.

There was a piece of paper hidden behind all that cash, folded and when he pulled it out, a credit card and a set of keys fell out with it.

_Hello, Jongdae. _

_There’s an apartment on the East Side all ready for you. Put the money in the bank and come down to this address to start your new job._

_Your benefactor_

The villain could only stare at the gift that had been given to him, marvelling at the miracle the universe had bestowed upon him.

* * *

The East Side was not far away, and he found the apartment building fairly easily.

It was tucked away, inside a quiet street, out of the noise of the main road and possibly away from people who would recognize him.

Still, Jongdae appreciated the sentiment.

Loud noises often triggered his relapses and the monsters would love nothing more than to devour him whole.

The silence made it easier to remain lucid, even after the long psychiatric treatments.

Whoever had bought him this apartment must have paid off said doorman very well as the only indication of recognition the man gave was a lift of his eyebrows and a downturn of his lips.

He was waved inside and up a private elevator to arrive at a fully furnished penthouse overlooking the East River.

Jongdae stood frozen with his hand still on the doorknob as he gaped at the view.

The river stretched on for forever as the skyline dimmed with the setting sun. It was a glorious scene and Jongdae would have gladly stood there and watched for ages if it were not for the sudden hum of a cell phone coming from inside the apartment.

The vibration snapped the villain out of his daze, and he strode over to the glass dining table, carefully setting down the now almost empty envelope onto the surface.

_Come to the café at nine in the morning. Punctuality is expected._

_Your benefactor_

The note was printed in the same neat handwriting and Jongdae could not help the smile that bloomed on his lips at the sight of the purple dragon sticker breathing fire next to the inky black text.

He set down the note, wandering over to the windows to watching the sun fling out its last rays before finally disappearing beneath the horizon.

The apartment had been designed with space in mind. Everything was neat and tidy and the furniture either white or glass. Some of the walls were inlaid with panels of mirrors to make the place look bigger. Even the dining chairs were made of clear plastic so as not to intrude on the space.

Jongdae made his way into the master bedroom found his way into the walk-in closet, filled with clothes. They were meticulously arranged by colour and type, the amount of thought the benefactor had put into selecting the pieces nearly causing him to tear up.

Tears did well up in his eyes when he turned to one particular section of the closet.

It was as neatly organized as everything else. But the clothes were not his.

They were Baekhyun's.

Jongdae began to tremble as he ran his fingers over a soft, white knitted sweater that he had given to Baekhyun for his birthday one year. He swallowed hard, even as the sobs began to bubble out of his throat.

"Baekhyun." His voice was hoarse as the name fell from his lips the same time the tears streamed down his face.

There was a small white card sitting on the drawer beneath the rack of Baekhyun’s clothes, and Jongdae grabbed it, uncaring of the tears that fell, marring the white paper with stains.

_He would have wanted you to have these. You stole his clothes all the time. _

The villain smiled despite himself, sniffing loudly as he brushed his thumb over the purple bunny that sat at the end of the sentence.

Whoever this benefactor is, he had known them both well.

* * *

_Fire and Ice Cafe_

Jongdae stared at the sign above the café, biting his lower lip fretfully. He had put on a denim jacket over a white shirt to combat the cold of the morning rain.

Even through the door, he could feel the warmth seeping towards him, reassuring. He could see people bustling around behind the bar, smiling and yelling orders at each other.

Inhaling deeply, he pushed aside the glass door and stepped inside.

“Sorry, we’re not open… You!” The blonde man was terrifyingly tall with startling amber eyes that pierced straight through Jongdae.

The temperature in the room dropped drastically when the other two men in the room turned to look at him. He recognized one of them as the frost walker that had apprehended him that night on the roof. He did not look friendly then, and he still did not look friendly now.

“What the hell are you doing out of the Hexagon. Or in my café?” Jongdae backed away when the blonde man came at him, flinging the dishrag in his hands angrily onto the counter.

He raised both hands in surrender just before a wall of black adamant shot out of the concrete floor, directly in front of the angry man.

“It’s alright, Yifan.”

The lilting voice was music to Jongdae’s ears and he turned to see who had spoken. The violet-eyed man smiled warmly at him and picked up the dishrag from the counter.

“Welcome to Fire and Ice.” The villain could not help but smile back, uneasily as the man wiped down the counter, eyes never leaving his face.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Yixing? He killed Baekhyun!” The blonde man, now named Yifan roared and Jongdae flinched when his eyes glowed cobalt.

“And he of all people regrets it the most.” Yixing’s voice was soothing as he dropped the rag into the sink.

“Come along now, Jongdae. We have work to do.”

The pure wave of animosity that radiated off Yifan was nearly enough to send Jongdae running out of the café, but Yixing turned just before he could reach for the doorknob, flashing him a dazzling smile.

“Yifan. Don’t play your mind games now. You’ll frighten him off.” The brunette reproached him gently and Jongdae could almost swear that he saw violet tendrils brush against Yifan’s cheek.

The dragon grunted and the tenseness in his body relaxed as he turned away, shooting his friend a glare.

“I hate you. You always play dirty.” His words held no heat to them as he stepped up to the counter, giant hand reaching to cup Yixing’s face.

_O…kay. Not just friends then._ Jongdae thought to himself as the black adamant wall dissipated into smoke and he walked forward, Yixing turning his head to look at him.

“Come in the back. I’ll show you how to start the cupcakes while Minseok hyung brews the coffee.” He gestured to the other man in the room, whose icy blue eyes had not left Jongdae since he had walked in.

“If he tries to kill you while you’re making the cupcakes, let me know. I’ll stick an icicle in his heart and we’ll be done with him.” The threat in his words was clear to the villain as he passed him, Yixing rolling his eyes at the statement.

“He won’t, hyung. And I can take care of myself.”

* * *

Cake making was messy. And precise all at once.

“It’s a science. But it’s also art.” Yixing said with a smile as he directed Jongdae to measure out the flour.

“Why did you bail me out?” The villain asked by way of answer as he dipped the metal measuring cup into the flour. His brows creased as he levelled off the cup with a knife just like Yixing had taught him.

The brunette cocked his head curiously as he handed over a bowl with two eggs.

“I didn’t bail you out.” He said with a smile as he cracked one egg against the side of the bowl, watching with satisfaction as the egg ran out.

“Then you know who did,” Jongdae replied shortly as he cracked the other egg. He swore loudly when the egg crunched beneath his fingers and the yolk ran all over his hands. Yifan poked his head in from the outside curiously.

“Is everything alright?” He asked, directing his question to Yixing, who was trying not to laugh as he handed Jongdae a paper towel.

"So, who did it?” The villain grumbled as he wiped down his hands, ignoring Yifan completely. Yixing nodded his head in response to Yifan’s question and the blonde man disappeared.

“I wouldn’t tell you even if I did. Whoever did it clearly wanted you to have a second chance.”

“At what? Killing another one of my friends?” Jongdae’s tone was like ice when he turned to glare at the brunette. Yixing looked unfazed even as he cracked another egg into the mixing bowl to replace the broken one.

“At life, Jongdae. I know you saw a psychiatrist in prison. And that you can suppress the monsters if you try.” He tried to take the bowl out of the villain’s hands to stir it but Jongdae did not let go.

His dark eyes flashed electric blue and Yixing yelped in shock when he yanked back.

“What if I don’t want to try?” The villain’s voice was soft, threatening as he looked at Yixing from under his lashes.

Yixing swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he dropped his eyes to the bowl they both held. Electricity seemed to crackle in the air as he said his next words with a confidence he did not feel.

“You will, Jongdae. For Baekhyun, you would do anything.”

Jongdae stared.

“Are you trying to say that Baekhyun somehow orchestrated this from his grave?”

At that, Yixing laughed, short and musical but so full of bitterness.

“No. Baekhyun could not have done this from his grave. Whoever did this for you knew he would want us to give you a second chance.” He turned away, violet eyes glimmering with unshed tears.

With that, all talk stopped while they worked quietly side by side except for Jongdae’s occasional questions on how something worked or what to add into the batter.

* * *

“And we’re done.” Yifan heaved a sigh of relief as he flopped down into one of the love seats.

Yixing chuckled and followed his lead, settling into his lap. Jongdae watched them quietly from his position behind the counter. The way Yifan’s arm curled almost instinctively around Yixing’s waist to hold him in place.

"How was your first day, Jongdae?” Yixing asked kindly, turning to smile in his direction.

The villain shrugged, polishing the counter absently.

“It was good.” He replied slowly, missing the way Yixing’s face lit up.

“Then we’ll see you tomorrow at nine. Don’t be late.” Yifan spoke up, his tone stern but not unkind.

  
Jongdae nodded, hiding a faint smile.

//

Jongdae was surprised at how easily he found himself falling into the routine of getting up, getting dressed and out the door to work without the drive of destroying something pushing him.

He found that he enjoyed the baking the most, the quiet moments he got in the back room with only Yixing or Minseok prattling around making other things. They were both content to keep to themselves, working around Jongdae as he tested recipes and created new desserts for the café on his own.

Jongdae had taken to baking very well, to everybody’s surprise. He took the basic recipes that Yixing had given him and put his own spin on them, turning the result into something completely unexpected.

He hid in the back room most of the time, content to bake and whisk egg whites for most of his shift.

As if he was sympathetic to Jongdae’s desire to be away from the customers, Yifan never assigned the villain to work the counter though if anyone asked, it was to prevent widespread panic that an ex-criminal from the depths of the Hexagon had been released and allowed to work.

Sometimes his mind still got away from him, the shadows creeping in after a nightmare or two, but he could always call on Yixing, who seemed to have an uncanny ability to know whenever he was about to slip away.

He would appear outside his home, no matter the time, to soothe away the monsters that still haunted Jongdae, until he could fall asleep again.

The appearance of the note was sudden but not unexpected, left on his dining table after a particularly rough night that left him restless and itching for a fight. He had sent Yixing away with electric burns all over his arms and tired shadows clinging to his eyes before he settled down to spend what was left of the night trying not to scorch the pages of his book.

_You have an appointment at 9am sharp tomorrow, at the address below. Don’t be late. Your shifts are taken care of._

_Your benefactor._

Printed in sharp black letters was the office of a psychologist not far from his apartment.

“_You.”_

The word was spat out with so much venom, so much hate, that Jongdae felt it pierce his heart like a knife.

When his psychologist had suggested he seek forgiveness from the people he had wronged in the past, he had baulked.

He could not imagine seeing Joonmyun, much less asking to be forgiven. It was not hard to see how much the water bender had loved Baekhyun despite everything.

And Jongdae had torn him away.

He had removed Baekhyun from this earth completely, the brightest star in his godforsaken universe.

But he had done it.

He had hurt people, perhaps beyond forgiveness, but he could only try.

He could try to better himself, accept that some people would never be able to forgive him and move on.

Baekhyun would want that for him. He would want that closure for him.

Though he had expected the response, he had not braced himself for how much the animosity would hurt.

When the memories had come back, slowly, in little fragments, he remembered who Joonmyun had been to him.

He had been like a brother, so kind and gentle. Jongdae remembered loving him like family, remembered running to him after he had lost control once, and Joonmyun had held him close, not treated him like a monster.

But now, Joonmyun was glaring at him so hard that if looks could kill, he would already be dead, his body splattered all over the pavement.

As it stood, he could already feel Joonmyun preparing to attack, the water in his blood a perfect asset to the water bender.

“I’ve come to beg pardon,” he murmured, bowing his head.

“I want nothing from _you_.”

The venom in Joonmyun’s voice stung, twisting the knife further into his heart.

“You took him away. He was the best thing to ever happen to me and you _took _him,” the water bender snarled.

“He’s gone. He’s _gone, Jongdae_. He’s not coming back and you were the one who took him,” the look in Joonmyun’s eyes teetered on the edge of madness as Jongdae leaned away, almost sure that the water bender would attack him.

He would deserve it too.

“Myeon,” a voice sounded from deep inside the house, one that was vaguely familiar to Jongdae. Joonmyun’s shoulders trembled and a hand appeared, grasping him gently.

“Come back inside, Joonmyun,” the voice was soft, soothing like honey on the ears, “leave him be.”

Joonmyun was frozen in the doorway as if he was torn between listening and ripping Jongdae limb from limb.

“Joonmyun.”

The earth beneath their feet seemed to tremble and Joonmyun slumped, his tense muscles relaxing. He released a sob, just one, but it was so full of pain that it ripped what was left of Jongdae’s heart right out of his chest.

“Joonmyun, hyung, I-.”

“_Don’t _call me hyung,” the water bender hissed, tears spilling down the planes of his face like a river, “I’m not your hyung.”

With that, he disappeared back into the house, slamming the door shut behind him.

Jongdae stood rooted to the spot, unable to contain the agony that tore through him.

He deserved that.

He did not even notice that he was crying until he tasted the salt on his tongue, tinging his lips.

Wiping the tears away with the back of his hand, he turned away.

The box of cookies he held in his hand suddenly seemed so small and insignificant now.

With a cry, he flung the box against the sidewalk and broke into a run, the tears beginning to pour down his cheeks like the heavens when he called on the rain clouds.

He did not see the ground crack open where the box landed, bits of cookies strewn everywhere, and swallow up the entire thing, box and all.

* * *

“Jongdae, we need you.” Whatever he had been expecting when he opened the door, it was not Yifan hovering outside, bushy brows creased with worry. The blonde was clearly agitated, fidgeting all the while as he explained the situation to Jongdae.

A fire bender had melted his prison doors and escaped. He had killed several of the prison employees before he got out, leaving charred burned bodies in his wake. 

All active heroes were being called out to apprehend him. 

He was on a rampage through the city, setting fire to everything and anything in his path. 

“Is it Chanyeol?” Jongdae interrupted, dread already pooling in his stomach. 

The last time he had seen Chanyeol was when he had sent him to deliver the kidnapping message to Baekhyun. 

The fire bender had been caught and imprisoned. He thought he had seen the last of him.

“I’m no hero.”

He muttered stiffly, moving behind the door. Chanyeol was dangerous, terrifyingly so. He was so powerful, second only to Jongdae himself. If they had not been friends, Chanyeol would already have tried to take him down.

News travelled in prisons. He was sure the fire bender would already know that he was walking free.

“We need you, Jongdae. You’re the only one who can talk him down.”

Yifan’s face was grim when he caught the closing door. 

“Talk him down? I’d be insane to try,” Jongdae growled as he shoved at the door, “if he can get out of the Hexagon by burning it down, none of you would be able to withstand his fire.”

Yifan blinked, his brows creasing with confusion.

“Who told you he was in the Hexagon? He wasn’t put in Hexagon.”

Jongdae stared, incredulous.

“Why _wasn’t _he put into the Hexagon?”

Yifan shrugged, eyes narrowing.

“I don’t know. But that’s beside the point. We need all hands on deck. That man is a monster.”

The word made Jongdae twitch. Baekhyun used that word too, to describe him. It made his skin crawl, rage beginning to bubble beneath the surface of his skin.

Criminal or not, Chanyeol had been and still was his friend.

“_Don’t _use that word,” he snarled, electricity crackling over his fingers. He saw Yifan’s eyes widen and the dragon took a step back. 

The action gave him immense satisfaction and his inner demon preened. But almost immediately, Baekhyun’s voice echoed him his head, calling his name.

He could almost see him in his mind’s eye, an angel with glowing wings.

Jongdae shoved the fury down, fighting to keep himself under control. 

He inhaled, the blue sparks dying.

“All monsters are made. We weren’t all born monstrous.”

The words were still tinged with anger but subdued. 

Yifan had his hands raised, whether to attack or defend himself he did not know. 

His muscles were like a tightly coiled spring, tense and wary.

“We have orders to kill on sight. If you want to save him, you’d better come with me now.”

His wings flared out from behind his back and Jongdae had to suppress a shudder. 

Yifan had been the dragon on the roof the night Baekhyun died. 

He fought down the panic that welled up inside him as Yifan shifted, his skin practically peeling away as his body swelled.

Moments later, Jongdae was climbing aboard the very same dragon that had tried to capture him before.

His stomach lurched as Yifan leapt into the air, fingers curling into ridges between the scales as he unfurled his wings.

With a powerful flap, they were off.

* * *

They arrived at the scene of a massacre.

Buildings were on fire, cars blocking the roads as civilians fled. Jongdae watched in horror as a stout structure toppled, blazing with flames.

They could feel the heat from where they were hovering in the air, thick noxious smoke billowing into the clouds.

Someone, probably Minseok, had set up an ice perimeter around the block, leaving a tiny gap in the ice wall for civilians to escape.

More dragons were swooping down from the skies, scooping up fleeing people and carrying them to safety.

As they drifted closer, another building exploded, giant balls of flame rolling out of the shattered windows.

“There,” Jongdae pointed at the collapsing structure. He could see a single figure walking out in the middle of the blaze, completely unconcerned by the fires raging around them.

A spout of water rose into the air, dousing the flames just as Chanyeol leapt out of the building, great wings of fire sprouting from his back.

“He can _fly_?” Yifan’s tone was incredulous as he steered them both down towards the sidewalk.

Jongdae nodded grimly, trying to suppress the fear roiling in his gut. Yifan had not seen him yet, but he could spot Yixing lying among the wreckage, his body covered in burns.

Joonmyun was crouched beside him, controlling a whirlpool of water as he tried to stop the fires from spreading and cool down Yixing’s heated body at the same time.

His eyes widened when Jongdae stepped off Yifan, his nostrils flaring. Indignation filled his face as he swept a hand carelessly, the whirlpool dissipating into nothing.

“Why did you bring him?” He growled, voice rough as Yifan shifted back into himself, walking towards them.

His eyes were full of fury and sorrow even as Yifan raised a hand, his jaw tensing.

“Yixing said to,” he replied, distracted. Jongdae spun away from them, not wishing to hear them discuss him as if he was not even there.

A wave of heat swept down the street and he looked up to see a wall of fire rolling towards him.

The tarmac was melting, the air filling with the smell of burning tar.

Instinctively, his own powers crackled to life. 

Blue lightning raced up his arms, dancing with sparks as he widened his stance, tensing.

The fire roared, sweeping in a wide circle around him and he heard Yifan and company cry out, ducking for cover.

Flames sizzled against water as Joonmyun raised a water shield around them.

Jongdae’s heart was racing even as he tried to remain calm. He was standing in a ring of fire, with destruction all around him.

He squeezed his eyes shut even as sweat dripped down his forehead, his shirt sticking to skin.

When he opened his eyes, all he saw was red and orange flames roiling, the black tarmac he was standing on beginning to boil.

Right in the middle of the inferno, was Chanyeol, grinning almost childishly.

“Dae!” His wings of fire flared even brighter and Jongdae fought down the wave of nausea that swept through him.

The heat was getting to him, the smell of burning tar clogging his nostrils.

“Hello, Chanyeol,” he murmured, allowing his lightning to die out. He extended a hand, suddenly very aware of the dancing flames flickering at Chanyeol’s fingertips.

Chanyeol was practically prancing as he reached out to take his hand, his eyes glittering with delight.

“Isn’t this beautiful, Dae?” He purred, gesturing to the carnage all around them. Jongdae suddenly understood how Baekhyun had felt when on the top of that roof, trying to talk Jongdae out of his murderous intent.

He understood the despair he must have felt then, now, as he watched Chanyeol spin in a circle, his firewall rising higher into the sky.

Squashing that niggling voice in the back of his head that was gloating at the city’s ruin, he inhaled deeply, choking on the noxious fumes rising off the tarmac. 

“Yeol, you have to make it stop.”

Chanyeol blinked as if he was confused.

“Stop?” He echoed, staring at him as if he had lost his mind, “why would I stop?”

Jongdae exhaled sharply, as the flames rose even higher, the soles of his shoes beginning to feel sticky and gross.

“You’re hurting people, Yeol,” he clasped Chanyeol’s hand to his chest, trying to ignore the rising temperature of his skin. His hand felt clammy as he kept a tight hold on the fire bender, reaching out to grab his other hand.

Chanyeol was staring at him incredulously.

“Since when do you care about hurting people, Dae? They think us monsters, because of reasons we cannot help. They lock us away instead of trying to understand.”

Jongdae winced.

The words stung, and he could feel the suppressed voices in his head begin to stir. But he knew himself. Because of his mysterious benefactor, because of _Baekhyun, _he knew who he had been before the accident.

Jongdae before the accident loved people. He was kind and would never deliberately do anything to hurt anyone.

“We can change, Yeol. We can prove to them that we aren’t the monsters they think we are. You can stop this now,” his fingers were beginning to blister, pain bubbling up through his nerves, “you can stop this now, and they’d let you live.”

He whimpered as Chanyeol’s eyes began to glow red, trying to suppress the agony that was spreading through his hands.

“They’d _help _you, Chanyeol. Just like they helped me.”

For a moment, Chanyeol’s red eyes dimmed, as if they were turning back to brown.

But a flash of white exploded through the red walls of flame, ice so cold that it smoked. A wave of water spilt over the fire, dousing them almost completely.

Frost climbed over their feet, clinging to Chanyeol’s legs.

“No!”

Jongdae yelped, reaching for him even as Minseok appeared in his line of sight, blasting more ice in the fire bender’s direction.

Chanyeol dodged out of the way, barely avoiding the spikes of ice aimed at his heart, his eyes flaring back to red again.

“Stop, stop!” Jongdae screamed in pain when another blast of ice sent him reeling, tumbling flat on his back.

Lightning crackled through the air when he flung up his arms, the white ice standing on the boiling tarmac evaporating into steam as Chanyeol roared, tongues of fire licking at his boots as he glared at Jongdae, with eyes filled with betrayal.

“Chanyeol, Chanyeol stop!” The fear that gripped Jongdae’s heart tasted strange in his mouth. He was unused to being on the receiving end.

“Get out!” Minseok screamed, flinging up an ice shield that evaporated almost immediately upon contact with the roiling flames. He stumbled back and Joonmyun appeared behind him, a wall of water exploding before the both of them.

Where was he getting his water from?

His lips were pulled into a grim line as he squeezed one hand into a fist and Chanyeol screeched in agony as the water bender began to pull the water from his blood.

The fires grew, glowing as Chanyeol began to slip, his form flickering back and forth between that of a human and a phoenix with glowing wings. His screams hurt Jongdae, piercing him like arrows to his chest.

He could not let another friend die on his watch.

“Stop it!” The shriek Jongdae released was foreign to his ears, high pitched and terrified as he flung out his hands. The already dim sky darkened further, storm clouds rolling overhead.

Lightning flashed and thunder rumbled ominously. The clouds were dark grey, heavy with rain, reminiscent of the night he had lost Baekhyun, the light of his life.

Joonmyun looked once at him, his eyes as hard as stones.

He did not care.

The realization struck Jongdae like his own lightning. Joonmyun cared nothing for the life of the fire bender at his mercy. He saw him as only another monster, another threat to the city like Jongdae once had been.

Perhaps if Baekhyun were still alive, he could have changed his mind.

But this Joonmyun was changed. Whatever kindness he had once possessed had died with Baekhyun.

Lightning cracked across the sky, striking the ground only feet away from Chanyeol and the heavens opened up.

Rain fell in sheets so heavy that they felt like rocks against his skin, blurring the world around them. The fires stood no chance against them, pelted into nothing but ash and charred tarmac.

As if it were responding to the rain, the ground beneath them shuddered.

Joonmyun paused, disbelief flickering in his eyes.

The ground shuddered once more and this time, it was harder, not a tiny shake.

The water bender dropped his hands as if answering to an inaudible call. Chanyeol remained curled on the ground, his form still barely flickering.

Jongdae ran to his side, gasping against the rain. He collapsed beside his friend, pressing two fingers to his pulse point, hoping and praying.

Chanyeol’s pulse jumped, once and then twice and Jongdae released the breath that he was holding.

“Yeol, Chanyeol,” he urged, shaking his friend’s shoulder.

Chanyeol groaned, flames flickering at his fingertips. His lashes fluttered and Jongdae rested his burned hand against his cheek, nearly crying with relief.

“Chanyeol, Chanyeol, can you hear me?”

A black-winged dragon landed before the both of them, its wings folding back to melt into the figure of a man.

Jongdae’s breath caught as he moved to shield his friend.

“Don’t kill him,” he pleaded as Yifan towered over them both, his eyes beginning to glow.

Black adamant sprouted from the ground, coiling around the fire bender’s wrists and ankles.

Chanyeol jerked, his eyes widening as the flames on his fingertips died upon contact. He thrashed and squirmed, the bloodlust in his eyes completely diminished.

Now, he was just another human being, terrified of what justice would bring upon him.

“He’ll be taken to the Hexagon,” Yifan reassured, “and given the best care we can.”

“No!” Chanyeol shrieked, his fingers clawing at the ground as he shook his head violently.

“Not the Hexagon!”

His terrified eyes struck Jongdae as Yifan wrapped a large hand around the back of his neck, dragging him to his feet.

The black adamant writhed, cuffing the fire bender’s arms behind his back, snaking up his arms to click with finality around his throat.

“Wait-,” Jongdae reached out just as Yifan had turned away, another man materializing out of nowhere.

“May I- Can I visit him?” He pleaded faintly.

The days in the Hexagon had been his longest ones, left in his cell and visited only by his rotating guards and psychiatrist. Time blurred together. He would never forgive himself for sending Chanyeol in there if he would never see him again.

Yifan paused as the other man came up to him, one hand planting firmly on Chanyeol’s arm.

Chanyeol was twisting, trying to turn around to look at Jongdae, even as the mysterious man wrestled him away, the air crackling and smelling of ozone.

“We’ll work something out.”

He said, bowing his head. The man who could teleport, nodded in Jongdae’s direction, as if in acknowledgement before he vanished, Chanyeol in tow, in a puff of black smoke.

Jongdae sank back onto the ground, the rain dripping in his hair, stinging his burnt hands. He could feel them in his eyes, like tears running down his face.

He could hardly believe what he had done.

“He needs help,” Yifan crouched beside him, as if he had sensed the internal turmoil that was swirling like a cyclone inside his mind, “the Hexagon will give him that help.”

A large hand cupped his cheek and Jongdae leaned into the touch almost instinctively.

It was unsettling how silent everything was. Even his demons were quiet as if knowing that it would be difficult to corrupt him again.

Yifan took his scarred hands in his and Jongdae watched numbly as the blistered flesh cleared, replaced by new skin. The pain was gone too and the only thing left behind was Chanyeol’s terrified screaming etched into his mind.

But he had stopped him.

He had stopped Joonmyun from taking away someone he cared about.

Was he not a monster anymore?

“Let’s get you home,” Yifan’s voice was soft and kind as he wrapped arms around Jongdae, helping him stand.

Jongdae did not protest, even as the other superpowers left, taking Yixing with them.

Yifan did not speak when he mounted onto his back, fingers curling into the spaces between his scales. He was silent all the way until he had escorted Jongdae to the door and the elemental pulled him into the apartment by the front of his shirt.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Jongdae murmured, suddenly feeling like a small child, lost and helpless.

He was unused to a silent mind. His demons were no longer taking up room, pushing and shoving against the mental walls he had put up in an effort to get him to cave, to break.

They were not screaming any more.

Yifan bowed his head as if he understood. He settled into the nearest chair, folding himself neatly to fit behind the table.

“Take a shower. I’ll be right here.”

Briefly, Jongdae wondered if he had been taking lessons from Yixing on how to handle him but the thought was quickly washed away the moment he turned on the water.

When he left the bathroom, steam billowing out when he opened the door, he found Yifan standing at the mantlepiece, studying the photo frames.

“You were so close,” he murmured as Jongdae walked up to him. Jongdae took the white frame from him, smiling to himself when he saw which photo he was looking at.

It was one of him and Baekhyun, hugging each other by the beach.

He could still feel the sea breeze in his hair, smell the salt in the air. He could almost taste the bitter seawater on his tongue when he gazed at the picture, Baekhyun pressed so close that he had left sand all over his clothes.

It had been such a nightmare to get them out too.

He stroked a finger over the slippery glass, swallowing back the lump of tears that had balled up in the middle of his throat.

“I think he’d be pretty happy with where you are now,” Yifan said quietly, patting Jongdae’s back.

Jongdae lifted his head, eyes glistening.

“Where is he? I want to see him.”

* * *

The cemetery that they had buried Baekhyun In was pretty far out, away in the countryside.

It would have taken hours of driving but with Yifan, they arrived quickly.

The dragon stayed at the gate, gesturing for Jongdae to go ahead.

Jongdae appreciated the gesture.

He wanted some time alone with Baekhyun.

The gravestone was simple grey stone, carved with his name, date of birth and death.

Flowers had sprung up around the grave, little white daisies that reminded Jongdae of their childhood, when they had discovered a field of them and sat weaving daisy chains for an entire afternoon.

He laid his bouquet at the headstone, kneeling before it.

The grass was damp, soaking through his jeans but it was difficult to find it within him to care.

“Hey Baek,” he murmured softly, the wind tugging at his hair.

There was no one for miles around, he could speak freely.

“I miss you.”

He bowed his head, the stone rough against his fingertips when he traced the carved letters of Baekhyun’s name.

“I’m getting better, I think. There're always people watching me. They care a little. They care enough to make sure I don’t slip again.”

“I hope you’re happy, wherever you are. I hope you’re not hurting anymore.”

He paused.

There were tears speckled on the grey stone, tears that he had not noticed sliding down his face.

“But I miss you. _So much_.”

Flowers burst forth from the ground he was kneeling on and Jongdae tensed, turning when he heard footsteps in the grass.

The man who was staring at him from across the field seemed vaguely familiar, with his large eyes and small stature.

But for the life of him, Jongdae could not remember where he had seen him before.

“Hello, Jongdae,” the man’s voice was soft and smooth like butter.

“Do I know you?” He replied stiffly.

“You did. A long time ago.”

The man’s eyes seemed as if they were looking right past Jongdae, into his very sullied soul. Jongdae stiffened.

“I lost memories. I don’t remember you,” he said quietly and the man merely shrugged.

“I know, Jongdae. I know.”

“Who are you?”

There were more flowers, springing up all around them as they spoke, pink and white daisies scattered around the grass.

“You knew me as Kyungsoo.”

“And now?”

“I’m still Kyungsoo. But the people know me as Dyo or Earthshaker.”

Jongdae stared.

He knew the name; of course, he did.

Everyone had heard of Earthshaker. Even when he had been deep in the throes of his demons, he had heard of Earthshaker, the hero who had gone into hiding after a major accident.

The city that he had flattened had been rebuilt, bit by bit over the years and Earthshaker was never heard from again.

“Were we friends? Did you know Baekhyun?” The questions poured out of Jongdae like a river. He had so many of them. If they had been friends before? Where was Kyungsoo when he had his accident? Where was he when Baekhyun died?

“We were. You were so devoted to Baekhyun that I could not believe it when he called, begging me to take him away from the city. He could hardly stand it, knowing how badly he damaged you.”

“Where _were_ you? He’s dead now. It was my fault,” Jongdae did not mean to sound so accusing but if he had known, if there had been someone else, someone who had meant as much to him as Baekhyun, perhaps he could have been talked down, perhaps, Baekhyun would still be alive.

“You don’t remember me, Jongdae. You barely even remember who _you _were. How was I to come and claim you? I was afraid too,” Kyungsoo’s face barely changed, his fingertips barely brushing against Jongdae’s shoulder.

“When I heard about Baekhyun and what they did to you, I couldn’t let them hold you. I couldn’t just sit idly by and lose another friend.”

Jongdae touched his hand gently, his eyes full of wonder.

“You sent me the psychiatrist in prison. You’re the benefactor.”

“Where- How?”

Kyungsoo shrugged.

“It was the least I could do. To make sure you’re stable and get you a job. It wasn’t easy, pulling those strings. Joonmyun was perhaps the most difficult to convince. He loved Baekhyun so,” his tone took on a little wistfulness and Jongdae could see now, why Joonmyun had not killed him on sight.

“He’ll never forgive me, will he?” He asked quietly. His chest was aching at the very thought. Joonmyun had been like his blood brother, another one of his closest confidants.

Kyungsoo chewed his lip, shaking his head.

“I don’t know. But you’re okay now. The monsters have stilled. You’re almost yourself again.”

Strong hands curled around his shoulders and Jongdae let himself slump. He did not know how Kyungsoo knew that, but he was right.

The monsters were silent, and the reason why he had come to see Baekhyun. He could be at peace now.

“I’ll never be whole,” he murmured as he wrapped his arms around Kyungsoo. He could almost see the little Joonmyun shape hole that had been torn out of his chest alongside the Baekhyun shape.

“I know,” Kyungsoo replied, allowing him to bury his face into the crook of his neck. Jongdae could feel the memories coming back. They might never return completely and he was not sure he _wanted _to remember the pain that he had caused others, but he could be human.

Not monstrous.


End file.
